January Mist

by Rev. Michael O’Connell

As I look at the frozen lake, I notice patches of snow, with more ice exposed than snow. Strange January here in Minnesota. It should be ten below with thirty-below wind chill. Instead it is misty, cloudy, overcast, weepy.

Today that lake is full of tears. The tears are for all that has been lost—friends, family, possibilities, betrayals, health, youth, love and faith. There are also tears of gratitude, comfort and cleansing. There are tears of hope, beauty, expectation, appreciation and even of…joy. Joy is that rare and precious gift that comes, though usually not with tears.

Tears are a gift, a gift from God. Just as the deepest intimacy we can have with a departed loved one is in the aching pain of memory, in the lingering, self-pitying pain of grief for ourselves who are the losers, not them; so it is that God weeps with us, embraces us with the pain of our loss. The pain is God’s embrace, the ultimate atonement.

Pity those who can’t weep, who don’t know what a great lake of tears awaits to cleanse, empty and free them.

And for those who can’t stop crying, may the lake run dry.